


The triumph of cookies

by Pigsinspaaace



Series: Roommates AU [4]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigsinspaaace/pseuds/Pigsinspaaace
Summary: Agatha needlepoints. Penny and Baz argue. Simon stays out of it. I resist a title based on trump puns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If there is a future in which the context of this scene is not obvious, I will be happy to have arrived at it.

_November 13, Sunday morning after the election_

**Simon**

I'm only half listening to Baz and Penny arguing; the other half is lost in the sensation of Baz’s arm around me. The four of us are hanging out in Ebb's apartment, which for all intents and purposes is now mine and Baz's and Penny's. We still feel better all sleeping under the same roof. It's early, but Agatha's already here, too. She's sitting on the other side of me, kind of sideways, so her back is against the arm of the couch and her feet are poking familiarly into my leg. Penny is sitting cross legged on the table, surrounded by various sections of the weekend paper opened to articles that probably have some patten but that seem random to me. One of my hands is tucked around Baz, and the other is holding a mug of chai.

I'm happy.

I'm the only one in the room who is, though. Penny has been alternately crying and speechifying since the election. Baz has been kind of pale and angry and quiet. Agatha continues to be her unflappable self. Possibly because she's the only one of us who actually has a platform from which to act. She's been tweeting and posting her biting, snarky missives to her millions of online followers. The tone is the same as her standard pre-election posts ('Really? You're going to wear that?') But the verbs have shifted. ('Really? You’re going to elect that?')

I’m happy despite the fact that I basically agree with all three of them. The situation is terrifying. But I'm kind of sick of being terrified. And I'm reassured by this. By being surrounded by the people I love. That hasn't changed. Even Agatha. Penny and Baz grudgingly accepted the fact that I was still going to include Agatha in everything. And by now I think (when I'm feeling optimistic) that they're happy to have her back, too. We all are terrible people in some ways, and we're all good in some ways. If we can't accept that in our friends, then what hope is there for reconciling with the other half of the country, the half that currently feels like our enemies?

My response to the debacle of Tuesday night was to give out cookies on Wednesday. Penny was mad, I think, that it made me happy. Or maybe she's just mad that I stayed quiet; she and Baz both dealt with it by arguing loudly. She wants me to raise my voice, to add it to theirs. But I'd rather stay quiet, on this one. I don't really have anything new to say.

I stand behind the cookies. Everything that adds happiness to the world helps. Even a cookie. I would fucking know. I'm going to keep giving them out. Or maybe I should give out muffins? Maybe I should start an ongoing free cookies-and-milk hour every morning? I've already been planning to add a shorter Thanksgiving version of the week-long party that Ebb and I always do over Christmas. I love the bakery. I love the people who come to the bakery. I love Agatha, and I love Penny, and I love Baz. Even when they're being impossible.

I tune back into the conversation, just to confirm that it's still the same one they've been having for days.

 _Penny_ : “…but that's exactly why she lost. Because the wealthy, privileged, educated classes underestimated the anger and frustration of all the people who've been left behind by the status quo.”

 _Baz_ (sneering, naturally): “Surely you're not going to retreat into that again, Penny. By that logic, he's the champion of the poor. If that's why she lost, then that must be why he won. Which simply is not a plausible read on a billionaire with regressive economic policies who’s backed by the wealthy elite that caused the economic crash to begin with.”

 _Penny_ : “You can't deny that people are angry with how things are. That they voted to reject the whole corrupt infrastructure.”

 _Baz_ : “Those people are either the most deluded of all or the most cynical of all. You're not going to improve the lives of the disenfranchised by putting the Republicans in charge. It's bullshit.”

 _Penny_ : “What's the alternative, then? Never trying to change anything? Propping up a failing system because you're scared to rock the boat?”

 _Baz_ : “Yes. You prop up the fucking system, if the alternative is to embrace the candidate beloved by the KKK and oligarchs and dictators across the world. If the alternative is to basically hire a guy who's bragged about sexual assault. Who talks about rounding people up and deporting them or throwing them in prison based on every fucking category that doesn't amount to heterosexual Christian of northwestern European descent.”

Their argument goes on, and on. It rarely changes. I usually just wait it out. Sometimes they switch sides. Not this time, though. This time they just keep going, and I just keep half-listening.

And then an alarm goes off.

**Penny**

Baz and I are lost in the comforting game of arguing. We basically agree with each other. We're just drowning. Like everyone else. Drowning in this moment of national bewilderment. Who are we? How did this happen? And what now? And, again: how, how, how? How could this possibly have happened?

Simon is sitting quietly, occasionally watching us. I realize with a squeeze of sadness that this is what counts as normal now. Simon, quiet. It hurts. Agatha says I should get over it. She says people are allowed to change. She says that maybe Simon was too loud before, even for himself. That being a little bit quieter might be a sign that he's doing better, not worse.

I get furious when she says shit like that. Of course she thinks a quiet Simon is a good development. She never understood him, and she doesn’t now. It makes me hate her a little. On top of already hating her for abandoning Simon at the White Chapel. I tolerate her anyway. For Simon.

Simon was surprisingly adamant about Agatha remaining part of this, a part of us. Of whatever we are. And now here she is, sitting on the couch, feet tucked against her newly well-behaved Simon. She's doing some sort of fucking needlepoint in pinks and yellows, ignoring the rest of us. I feel myself gritting my teeth. I glance at Baz, and see that he's doing the same. But neither of us stops talking.

Baz is polishing his rant. I know the second half of his argument by heart. He'll point out that Malcolm is delighted by this turn of events. That, in and of itself, he'll argue, should be evidence that the Bernie bros who abstained or voted for third party candidates or for the new POTUS himself, they're just as corrupt and exploitative as their purported opponents. Sacrificing the wellbeing of hundreds of millions of people so they could jumpstart their revolution. Then I'll point out that just because Malcolm voted the same way as the protest leaders, it doesn’t imply that-

But I never get to finish the thought because some sort of fucking buzzer goes off. Baz and I look up in confusion as Simon and Agatha burst out laughing. Like, tears-streaming-down-your face, hiccupping-until-you-can't-breathe laughter. I feel the resentful anger of anyone who has ever been left out of a joke. I can see my expression mirrored on Baz's face.

**Baz**

I tense up immediately. I mean, wtf? I'm already permanently furious with Agatha. Now her phone starts ringing obnoxiously, interrupting me mid sentence. Rather than turn it off, she nudges Simon with her foot and they both burst out laughing. I hate feeling like the uptight git who can't take a joke. Agatha always makes me feel like that. But Simon? Why the fuck is he laughing?

I glance at Bunce and am relieved to see that at least she feels the same way as I do. She stares at Agatha with undisguised hostility, and then glances at Simon with a look of betrayed confusion.

Agatha finally stops cackling long enough to turn off her goddamn phone. Simon calms down too, and looks over to see me glaring. He squeezes my hand gently and winces at Bunce apologetically.

“It's just,” he explains between dwindling giggles, “that was Agathas signal. When I went on too long.”

I feel my fury rising, until I hear the rest of the thought.

“About you, Baz. I was allowed to talk about you for ten-” here he turns to Agatha for confirmation. She makes a lowering gesture with her hand, still snickering. Simon rolls his eyes. “Five?” She shakes her head. “Two?!" Simon turns back to Baz. "I was allowed to talk about you for two minutes in any given conversation, and then I got buzzed off the stage.”

“In my defense,” interrupts Agatha (who's still smirking and isn't the least bit apologetic, let alone defensive,) “he would bloody go on about you for hours if left unchecked. It was a string of ‘where is Baz,’ and ‘what's Baz doing, do you reckon,’ and ‘but what if Baz is in danger,’ or ‘what if he's not ok.’ If I didn't set a limit we wouldn't have talked about anything else from the moment he set eyes on you. It was rather boring. Not to mention insulting.”

I feel the corners of my mouth quirk up. I don't want to let go of the comforting glow of self-righteous anger. But then I look down into Simon's laughing face. His eyes are happy, again. And I realize it would be a waste of fucking time to stay mad right now. A waste of precious time, time when Simon is warm and safe and smiling at my side.

So I smile too. And then I kiss him stupid.

And then Agatha's fucking timer goes off again. This time, as he and I relinquish one another's mouths, even I'm laughing.

**Penny**

I watch Agatha's face as Simon and Baz kiss. She's smiling at them. It's not exactly a fond smile, and not exactly a smug smile. Smond? Fug? It's the smile of someone who has successfully moved a social gathering in the direction she wanted it to go. I'm impressed, despite myself. She derailed the politics, made Simon smile and made Baz melt. I guess party-throwing does involve its own set of skills. I guess maybe she does understand Simon, a little. I'm still pissed off, though.

And then she lifts the fucking needlepoint she's been working on so I can see it. It's one of those homey cross-stitch patches that usually says things like '[Mother is another word for love](https://tinymodernist.wordpress.com/2013/04/16/free-mothers-day-cross-stitch-pattern/),' or '[Bless this mess](http://hardrockangel.deviantart.com/art/Crossstitch-Bless-This-Mess-504087488),' complete with the little flowers and the cutesy border. But hers says 'Nasty Woman.'

And she wins again. I can't help it. I laugh. She smiles for a split second, and then returns to looking superior. She raises her eyebrow at me (they must teach that in Fieldston or something) and taps on her phone. I laugh more as the buzzer sounds again and the boys pull apart, blushing.

 

**Simon**

It's not that I don't think the situation is bad. It is. And it's not that I don't think the new president isn't dangerous. He is. There's already been a rise in hate crimes across the country, and he hasn't taken office yet. I'm not naïve about the situation.

There are people who are genuinely bad. But I already knew that. Maybe it's why I'm less freaked out than my friends. If there's one thing I know, it's that ruthlessness works. The bullies win. We're powerless to stop it. Our power lies only in how we respond.

The bad guys will win. But we can't let the hatred win. The better person may lose, but we can't let love lose, too. We shouldn't underestimate the power of staying true to our best selves. The power of empathy. The power to be inclusive. We can make the world a good place to be, even if it's just one little corner at a time. One little cookie at a time. All of it matters. Even the cookies.

 


End file.
